


Family Rituals

by thatgirlwhodraws



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bloodplay, Choking, Incest, M/M, Possession, Ritual Sex, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlwhodraws/pseuds/thatgirlwhodraws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Bolton Fic X Change. I hope I filled the request well enough! May possibly end up writing a follow-up chapter for extra crepp.</p>
<p>Prompt: legends/myths/rituals possibly blood magic.<br/>Character A summons (or just pretends to have summoned) some dark/ancient evil force to absorb its power and enthral/intimidate character B. Outcome (and which character is doing the ritual) is up to the writer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>At Domeric's insistence, Ramsay helps him prepare and execute a ritual to honor the dead and ask for their blessing, offering their bodies as a way for the dead to experience the pleasures of life again.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Rituals

“ _Why_ are we doing this again?” Ramsay grunted, fingers stained red with blood from the animal he’d helped butcher, carefully drawing the circle as Domeric instructed him. Part of the reason he was going along with this was to watch his brother -- his face illuminated only by the moon and the fire they’d built, the forest around them quiet save for the occasional wail of cars on the highway in the distance. Domeric glanced up from where he was dipping his fingers in the solution he’d made again -- a mix of blood, oils, and herbs. He carefully traced out the final runic symbols of the circle. Domeric had studied for _months_ for this. He knew he was ready.

 

“We’re offering our bodies to the dead.” Domeric set a clean bowl that smelled of sweet oil and flowers, pulling a blade out of his bag carefully -- a gift from their father, passed down through the family. The handle was their family symbol -- the flayed man, a little worn with age, though it was well kept. “So that they might bless us with their guidance.” He nodded, eyes flicking up to land on Ramsay’s. “Give me your hand.” His tone was firm.

 

Ramsay felt a cool shiver run down his spine -- but he smiled, and did as he was told. Pain like this didn’t frighten him. His breath hitched and he let out a low hiss as the blade bit into his skin, watching his blood dribble into the bowl at the center of the circle. Domeric drew back, drawing a cut along his own skin and letting his blood mix into the bowl with Ramsay’s. Domeric sat back, legs crossed, fire crackling behind him. They had burned food items for the ritual just a few minutes before -- the sticky-sweet smell of sugar still stuck in Ramsay’s nose.  He let himself watch Domeric’s face -- his brother’s eyes were closed in concentration.

 

“Spirits of the dead,” Domeric spoke softly, but with a sense of authority that their father had trained into him. “We come here tonight to offer you our flesh.” Ramsay felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. The wind seemed to pick up around them -- but he dismissed it, refocusing back on his brother’s words. “We would allow you to enter our bodies and experience all that we do -- to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.” Domeric wet his lips, and Ramsay had to fight to ignore the stirring of blood in his loins, his pants beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. “We offer this to you and ask your blessing--” The wind was picking up again -- there was a feeling of electricity in the air, a strange quality of other that made Ramsay feel as if they were being watched.

 

Domeric had gone quiet -- Ramsay looked back to him to see his brother slumped forward, his jaw slack as if asleep. Ramsay wet his lips, nervous. “Domeric?” He ventured, hesitant, then bolder. “Come on. Stop joking around.” He reached up, fingers laying on Domeric’s shoulder.

 

His brother’s head lifted slowly. His posture was -- strange, different, and the expression on his face almost made him look like a different man. The pale blue of his eyes seemed lighter -- almost white, like the reflection of the moon in them was setting them aglow.

 

When Domeric’s fingers curled on his wrist, his skin was cold to the touch -- cold enough to make Ramsay shudder, while his fingers traced upward to press against his pulse -- cool digits feeling up the skin of his throat, as if examining him.  

 

“ ** _Come here_**.” Domeric’s voice had a sweetness to it -- like a song, a whisper that curled inside his head and made him feel warm inside and out, wrapping him in layers of velvet and pulling him in. Ramsay felt slow, but he moved to Domeric’s side, his thighs spreading absently as Domeric’s fingers slid down his stomach and into his pants, cupping his cock and stroking him. When Ramsay bucked his hips, Domeric laughed soft against his ear. “ _ **Eager, aren’t you?**_ ”

 

“Hurry up--” Ramsay tried to groan out, but Domeric’s free hand curled on his throat, tight enough to ache, keeping him pinned with his back against Domeric’s chest, making it difficult to do anything but gasp for breath and fall apart under his brother’s hands.

 

“ _ **No. You offered this,**_ ” Domeric reminded him, fingers pulling Ramsay’s cock free of his jeans and stroking him slow. The coolness of his skin didn’t seem to fade, even as his hand moved over Ramsay’s flesh, working him until he was gasping -- until his hips were bucking and he was straining against the iron grip of the hand on his throat. " ** _We will take it as we please._** "

 

Ramsay could feel the throb of his heart in his head, his nerves on fire, eyes rolling back to look at Domeric -- at the moonlight in his eyes, the way they shone even in shadow like this, unblinking and focused on his face. He could feel sensation building in the pit of his stomach -- unstoppable, even if Domeric would not grant him the quick release he desired. “Please--” Ramsay rasped -- and those fingers tightened further, until no air could escape him.

 

“ ** _You give this to us,_** ” That velvety voice was tickling against his ear now, Domeric’s fingers stroking him fast -- " ** _Now._** " until Ramsay’s hips jerked up, his release spilling over his stomach, Ramsay’s eyes rolling back into his head as the wave of it washed over him. 

 

He didn’t remember when Domeric released his grip, allowing him the sweet gasp of air again -- but he dutifully put out the fire and stumbled to his feet, heading back for the car to take them home.

 

\--

 

When Domeric woke the next morning, his head felt like it was full of cotton, his limbs feeling sluggish, like he’d been drugged. Groggy, he rolled onto his side and spotted Ramsay on the other end of the bed, his lips twitching up a bit at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully at his side -- like they hadn’t since they were children.

 

But he stopped when he saw a shadow standing over Ramsay -- a figure, long-limbed and lanky, it’s fingers brushing through the curls of hair at the base of Ramsay’s neck as he slept.  It was fuzzy in his vision -- as if he wasn’t supposed to look at it directly. It lifted it’s head and spotted Domeric looking and stared him down, it’s eyes like a reflection of the moon in a glass mirror, so intense it made his head ache to look at it.  And then it was gone -- Domeric’s vision gone black, unconsciousness claiming him once again.

\--

“... ** _You have earned our blessing._** ”


End file.
